


Watch Me

by sherrllocked



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 02:25:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6101686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherrllocked/pseuds/sherrllocked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is sometimes what happens when cases go on far too long.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Watch Me

**Author's Note:**

> Just found this little gem I'd written a little over a year ago, thought I'd edit it a bit and share with everyone!

John hates cases like these.  The ones that drag on for weeks, making Sherlock distant from him.  And it’s not about the sex, it never was.  He misses Sherlock’s outbursts when he’s bored, inane texts while John’s at the clinic and Sherlock can’t think of an experiment to occupy himself, it’s the little things like this.  It’s just since they became lovers, John misses Sherlock’s touch, yearns for it.  He would be a fool not to.  John just gets lonely, and it’s ok, but sometimes he wishes Sherlock could just spare him fifteen minutes, but he promised he wouldn’t distract Sherlock from the work.  

All these thoughts ran through John’s mind as he laid in their bed missing his detective.  Sherlock had left sometime in the early hours of the morning - a break in the case - and had yet to return.  He had sent John a text, explaining he’d be travelling out of the city. Not unusual, so John paid little mind, he figured it would be hours, possibly another day until he saw his lover and that was fine, he could take care of himself until then.  It’s not like he’s never done it before, it was just so much better when Sherlock was there to help.  Actually, what John really liked is when Sherlock just watched.  It had only happened once, by accident, but John had never come like that just by touching himself.   Sherlock’s eyes locked on his as he stroked himself, silently pleading him to go on.  Then he had crossed the room and leaned over John, their mouths nearly touching, eyes still locked, his voice thick and low, telling John how to touch himself.  

John groaned as his eyes slid shut, hand running down his stomach to his groin, palming himself through his pyjama bottoms.  He shivered at the contact, he really shouldn’t. He should wait for Sherlock, but that could be God knows how long and he was so hard.

He rummaged for the lube in the night stand, then exhaled slowly as he poured some in his palm warming it before lifting his hips and tugging his bottoms and pants off in one go.  

A shaky breath escaped his lips at the first contact of cool hands on his heated skin.  A sigh of relief as he wrapped his hand around the base of his cock and started with several long pulls.

It wasn’t long until he had found a pleasing rhythm, hips rocking slowly into a closed fist, eyes shut, soft moans growing steadily as he shut the rest of the world out.   He was going to enjoy this and he was going to dream that Sherlock was watching him.

Little did he know, that’s exactly what was happening.  He had never heard the detective enter the flat nor make his way down the hall. Sherlock was tired and just wanted to crawl into bed next to John and rest so he was as quiet as he could be as he entered the flat since it was still early.  He expected John to be sleeping but was quite shocked (and pleased) to see the spectacle before him as he reached the threshold of their bedroom.

He stood there, silently watching as John stroked himself, breathy gasps leaving him at regular intervals. This had happened once before and John seemed to enjoy it when Sherlock watched and then talked him through it.  It was time for a repeat performance.  He shrugged his coats off and let them drop to the floor silently, crossing the space between them quickly, joining John on the bed.

John startled, his eyes opening instantly, sitting up slightly, hand faltering.

“Don’t stop,” Sherlock murmured, nuzzling into John ear. “I want to watch you.”

John moaned, his head dropping back, leaving his neck exposed as he continued with long, slow strokes to his length.

Sherlock leaned forward, mouthing at John’s neck and pulse point, eyes fixed on John’s hand.

“John, focus on the head, short strokes,” Sherlock ordered.  John obeyed, letting his eyes slide shut again, listening to Sherlock’s voice.

“Mmmm, just like that.  Now swipe your thumb over the tip.” he purred into John’s ear.  

John shivered, his back arching off the mattress at the sudden contact of his thumb over his slit, smearing precome over the tip.  "Oh God,“ John moaned.

Sherlock grinned, "Don’t stop now.  Keep going John, longer, firmer strokes,  all the way to the base.” Sherlock paused, waiting for John to comply.  "Good, now cup your balls, just like that.  Play with them.  God John look at you, so hard, so flushed.  Do you always get this way when you touch yourself and I’m not here?  Or is it just when I’m here to watch?  Do you like it when I watch and tell you what to do?“   Sherlock licked up John’s neck now, causing a hitch in his breath.

"Sherlock…please…”

“Please what John?” Sherlock demanded.

“Tell me what to do, watch me…” John whimpered

“John, I couldn’t take my eyes of you now if I tried.  What a sight you are, I should film this, let you watch afterwards so you can see how desperate you are for my words and for me to watch.”

“Please Sherlock!”  John cried.

“Wrap your hand around your head.  I want to see you fuck your fist.  Good and tight now, don’t hold back.  I want to see you plant your feet on the bed and fuck up into your hand, nice and hard, pretending it's me riding you, begging you for more.”

John dropped back to the mattress, following all of Sherlock’s orders, drawing his knees up, planting his feet against the bed, and letting go.

“Yes John, faster.  Come on, show me what you’d do to me if I was on top of you, how you’d make me beg, plead for it.  God John I want it. Come for me.”

And with those three little words, John let go, thrusting frantically, shouting as his balls drew up, come pulsing over his stomach as his hand stilled. 

“No, don’t stop,” Sherlock purred as he wrapped his hand around John’s  and worked him through the waves of his orgasm.  Smirking as the last bit dripped to his stomach, his breath coming in ragged pants.

“Jesus Sherlock,” John whispered.

Sherlock smiled, leaning down and licking the come that had pooled on John’s stomach, all the way up his chest until their lips met.  John groaning as he tasted himself on Sherlock’s lips and tongue.

“Seems I need to make it a point to find time to take better care of you when I’m on a case.”  Sherlock stated when they finally parted.

“Oh if this is how you’re going to take care of me when you’re finished, I really don’t mind waiting.   Now, let me show you how much I missed you.” John growled as he pushed Sherlock down on the bed and climbed on top of him.“

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. I hope you enjoyed this little story. Thanks for reading.


End file.
